Abnormal Psychology
by 4lettrwrd
Summary: When the perils of the conflict between vampire biology and abnormal psychology are ignored, the consequences will be dire and far reaching. AU


I sighed as I pulled out another cigarette, lighting it with a flick of my fluorescent yellow lighter, blowing a steady stream of smoke into the air above me. Some or other indie-band was blaring through my headphones, loud enough to make my ears hurt, but not loud enough to block out the sound of Jasper and Alice screaming at each other in the next room.

I couldn't hear their exact words, but instinctively, I knew they were arguing about me – they seemed to be fighting a lot lately, and I seemed to be a favorite topic.

She hated me. She never said anything about it and she was nice enough to my face, all fake smiles and cherry lip-gloss, but I knew – she hated me.

I didn't blame her.

Sometimes _I_ hated me.

Lie. Sometimes I felt like I _should_ hate me.

For a couple of minutes I just lay there watching the smoke swirl in pretty patterns up to the ceiling, taking the occasional drag. It was soothing to watch the smoke twirl and coil and loop and dissipate. Calming. Hypnotizing almost. I tried to focus on that and the music – anything except the sounds of Jasper and Alice having a go at each other.

Three and a half cigarettes later and they were still screaming, but it sounded like they were finally starting to simmer down. That wasn't necessarily a good thing though, because their make-up sex tended to get really loud, and that wasn't exactly how I wanted to spend my evening – listening to their weird little chorus of grunts and groans and high-pitched shouts of - _Oh, God. Oh, God. Harder_. I couldn't repress a dramatic shudder at the thought.

Sighing again, I mashed my cigarette into the already overflowing ashtray and slammed my laptop shut, killing the music. All of a sudden, being anywhere that wasn't here sounded like a really good idea.

Stretching over to the bedside cabinet, I picked up my phone and dialled Rosalie, flopping backwards against my pillows and praying to God that she would answer. She didn't. She was probably out of town again, because as prissy as that bitch was, she sure loved camping. I didn't get it personally – all that dirt, and ugh. No.

Hitting the end button, I considered my other options, limited as they were. I didn't exactly have many friends – or, any really – that I could just call up at this time of the night.

So, basically, I had one option. My failsafe - The Post. A cute, though dodgy little bar a couple of minutes walk from the apartment.

I shrugged to myself and hopped off the bed.

After pulling on a pair of shoes, I tiptoed into the lounge, shrugging on my jacket as I went. Jasper and Alice were snuggled together on the couch, screaming match forgotten, an unwatched black and white playing on the TV – they were too wrapped up in each other, cooing and kissing and whispering, to pay much attention to it.

Holding my breath, I tried to sneak past them. No joy. I made less noise than a silk spider, but of course, Jasper called out to me just as I reached the front door.

"Where you off to, Bambi?" he asked, from right behind me. Sometimes I wondered if he actually remembered what my real name was.

Squeezing my eyes shut and cursing under my breath, I tried to put on my happy face as I turned to face him.

"Just down to The Post," I said, shrugging. "I figured I'd go grab a beer while you and Alice…" I shrugged again. "You know."

He laughed quietly, and his ears went pink with embarrassment, though his ocean-blue eyes sparkled mischievously. He was lucky – when I blushed, it looked like I had Carbon Monoxide poisoning.

"Okay," he said, and I bristled slightly at his tone. As much as I loved him – and I did, a lot – he just acted too much like a parent sometimes. I didn't need his _permission _to go down to the bar. I didn't need him to look after me.

"What time are you going to be home?" he asked, reaching out to smooth a runaway strand of hair behind my ear.

Usually, his touch calmed me down, brought me back from all my dark places, but tonight I wanted to bite his fucking fingers off. I didn't. I just shrugged, turning my face away from his hand.

"Not sure," I said. "Later."

"Don't forget you have an appointment with Carlisle in the morning, yeah?" he said, dropping his hand finally. I fought the urge to roll my eyes and just smiled as convincingly as I could.

"Yeah, I remember," I muttered through clenched teeth. "Can I go now?" I sounded like a petulant child, and I hated that he brought that out in me. I wanted to back to the time when everything had been easy, and I'd been his friend instead of his responsibility.

He just nodded, grimacing. I think he was trying to smile. Everything between was so strained, and I hated it. It was probably my fault, but I didn't know how to fix it.

As I turned away, Alice's musical voice rang out through the hallway, and she was next to Jasper in a flash. The girl moved like a bolt of lighting. "Bella, wait!"

I was practically shaking with frustration. All I wanted to do was get out of here.

"What, Alice?" I hissed, turning to face them again. She glanced up at Jasper quickly, topaz eyes shining with concern under a furrowed brow. The look only lasted a second, but she'd obviously gotten her message across, because Jasper frowned at her before turning worried eyes back to me.

"Bella… Maybe you should just stay here with us tonight," she said hurriedly, "We could watch a movie or something."

Jasper was nodding his agreement, but he looked as confused as I felt.

My eyebrows felt like they were sitting somewhere in my hairline as I stared at them, and I giggled softly. Not because it was funny or anything – it was sort of pathetic really. She always did shit like this.

"Uhm," I tapped my finger against my chin in mock-consideration. "No? No. I think I'll go down to the bar. You guys have fun though."

Alice opened her mouth to protest, but I silenced her with my most vicious glare. I don't know that it was my vicious look that shut her up though, because her face went blank for a second, and her eyes glazed over like she wasn't seeing the same things we were. It only lasted a moment before she jerked into awareness again. She was so fucking weird.

She shot another worried glance at Jasper and heaved a rather theatrical sigh.

"Yeah, okay," she sighed, again, giving me permission I didn't really need. "Just keep your phone on you please?"

Her weird golden eyes pleaded with me to agree. Sometimes, when she was trying to get her way, her eyes became almost hypnotic. I hated it when she pulled that shit with me. Jasper was giving me the same look, and I wanted to throw my hands up in the air and just say _fuck it_. They knew they were going to get their own way.

So I closed my eyes again. "Fine," I hissed. "I'll keep my phone on. I won't forget about my appointment. I won't drink myself into a fucking coma. Can I please just fucking go now?"

She reached out and rubbed my arm, and even through my jacket, her fingers felt like ice. I think it was supposed to be a comforting gesture, but instead it just made my skin crawl. "We're just worried about you, Bella," she said. and I jerked away from her, rolling my eyes.

"Yeah, alright," I muttered. "Whatever. I'm going now."

I turned around and was out the door before either of them could say another word. I knew they were just worried – I knew they cared about me. But sometimes it just got a little bit too much; I wasn't a little kid – I didn't need them to hold my hand through everything.

I shivered slightly as I trudged down the road, glad that I'd brought a jacket. I was also glad that The Post was so close to Jasper's apartment; even after living there for almost a year, I still couldn't think of it as home. Home was in Forks.

Luckily though, the bar was almost empty when I got there, and I said a silent thank-you to whichever God was listening that Mike was working behind the bar; he was still such a puppy-dog, and it was easy to charm free drinks out of him.

Granted, I shouldn't be drinking in the first place, but it was a fair-trade in my mind – though I doubted Jasper saw it that way. He'd been quite compliant about it so far, but I was just waiting for the day he tried to put his foot down. That would be the day he saw a totally different side of me.

Shrugging off my jacket, I slid onto one of the stools at the bar and motioned to Mike. He sidled over with a smarmy smile that I just wanted to slap right off his face. "Alright, Bella?"

I smiled sweetly and pulled out a cigarette, leaning over so that he could light it with the zippo that he loved to show off and feel important.

"Absolutely fucking fantastic, Mikey," I said, closing my eyes and taking a deep drag on my cigarette, "Tequila and lime on the rocks… Please."

Swivelling my stool around, I leaned back against the bar, propping myself up on my elbows. This was my favorite activity – people-watching; watching them playing pool, or talking, or drinking by themselves. I liked to imagine what types of people they were, or what they were talking about, how they thought and what made them laugh like they did. I never actually spoke to them, or made any attempts to socialize, but this was better in my opinion. _They couldn't disappoint me this way._

So I sat at the bar, lazily casting gaze my across the room as I sipped my drink. Occasionally, Mike would try to engage me in conversation, but really, I wasn't in any mood to oblige him tonight, so I just ignored him. Politely, of course.

It was somewhere between my second and third drink that that my phone started ringing. Hoping it was Rosalie, I pulled it out of my pocket and checked the screen. _Jasper._ Jesus fuck. Could he not just leave me alone for one night?

I ignored it, and it stopped ringing eventually – but it started again almost immediately.

After the fourth missed call, I was considering just switching my phone off, but then I got distracted. From my position at the bar, I had an unobstructed view of the entrance, and now especially, I was glad of that fact. Standing in the doorway was a boy, and words could not accurately describe him – I call him a boy because he couldn't have been older than eighteen, maybe nineteen tops, but he was unearthly.

His hair had an odd bronze sheen to it, even in the dull, dingy light of The Post, and it positively defied gravity, standing up in a million different directions. Either, he spent a lot of time running his hand through it, or he'd come in close contact with a live-wire.

I allowed my eyes to rove over his entire form, cataloguing all the details – tall, pale skin, strong jaw, lean muscled arms. The only flaw I could spot were the stupid contacts – bright fucking red. They clashed horribly with his hair. He was probably trying to make a statement or something.

He was still standing in the doorway, tensed up, and his eyes were darting around the room as though he was looking for someone. He looked like he was spoiling for a fight.

Then, my heart sputtered in my chest when his eyes locked on me, and I cursed the stupid contacts – they were just so damn ugly. I jumped about a foot in the air, almost slipping straight off my stool, when my phone started ringing again. He smirked slightly and strolled into the room, headed straight for me.

I ignored my phone. I didn't move, didn't breathe until he was standing right next to me, leaning against the bar. He cocked his head, staring at me with something akin to frustration, but when my own brow furrowed in response, he smiled a crooked little smile that set my heart pounding, and I forgot all about it. In fact, in that moment, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have been able to remember my own name.

Before I could say anything, his eyes flickered towards the entrance, face contorted in anger, and he growled; like a fucking dog – actually _growled_. I didn't have time to marvel at the rapid mood swing before I felt an icy hand grip my shoulder and again, the shock almost jumped me straight off my stool, straight into Alice's sub-zero embrace.

"Bella," she murmured, voice low, almost warning. I wanted to glare at her, or hiss, or spit, maybe take a leaf out of red-boys book and growl, maybe fucking smack her. I knew from experience not to try the latter – it was like hitting a fucking wall, and usually hurt me more than her – and, judging by the way she was staring at my beautiful boy, I doubted she would notice anything as insignificant as a glare.

Glancing between them, I almost wanted to shrink away from the violent intensity of the staring match – pissing contest – battle of wills – something – that they were locked in. If it wasn't so weird, and frightening, it would have been comical. Alice was probably about half his size, and his red eyes made him look a hell of a lot more threatening than her soft golden ones.

Looking away and pulling myself out of her arms, I saw Jasper jog into the bar, directly to Alice's side.

He was sweating slightly and he looked scared. I almost felt bad. Almost. Then he grabbed me by the arms and shook me slightly, and I slipped right back into just being pissed off.

"Jesus, Bella," he spat, "why the fuck didn't you answer your phone?"

I came very close to head-butting him. My head actually twitched forward, itching to make contact with his face and crush his nose into a bloody pulp. I tired to struggle out of his grasp, looking at everything that wasn't him and he shook me again. "Answer me, Bella."

Grinding my teeth so hard I thought they would crack, I looked at him again, trying to convey all my anger with one look. "You're not my father, Jasper. I don't need to let you know where I am every second, okay? Fuck you. I can look after myself."

He looked hurt, and I felt another twinge of guilt.

Twinge might be a bad word. Tidal wave would more accurately describe it.

He was just trying to look out for me. It was what he did. He was always looking after me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, scrubbing my knuckles across my eyes to stop the tears that were welling up there. Sniffling, I gazed up at him and shuffled forward, leaning my head against his shoulder. His hands were still wrapped around my biceps, but he just used his grip to pull me closer to him, resting his chin on the top of my head.

"It's okay, Bambi," he murmured, relinquishing his grip on my arm to rub my back soothingly.

"Can we go home?" I mumbled into his shirt, not caring about the beautiful, growling boy that I wouldn't have the chance to speak to, or the fact that I was supposed to be angry. I just wanted to crawl into bed.

"Sure," he said softly, but before he could lead me away, I turned to grab my jacket, still laying over one of the stools, hoping to get one last look at my beautiful boy.

- but he wasn't there.

We'd barely made it home before the screaming started up again. Jasper slammed into the house, screaming at Alice over his shoulder and she was right behind him, wild-eyed and practically snarling.

Of course, they were fighting about me. Whether or not I should have been _allowed_ to go out - whether or not I should be _allowed_ to drink. Like I was a child. I kept my mouth shut and stalked to my bedroom, slamming my bedroom door shut with as much force as I could muster and gritting my teeth against the urge to trash everything in sight out of sheer frustration.

I decided that dropping some benzos and just passing out was probably my best course of action.

~*~

My bedroom door slammed open, hitting the wall with a crack and I jerked upright just in time to see a flurry of motion at my open window. My heartbeat pounding in my throat, I turned to the doorway, where Alice stood, glowering. She didn't acknowledge me for a few moments, but finally, after what felt like an eternity, she turned to me with a grim little smile.

Jasper appeared next to her in the doorway then, groggy with sleep. "Wass goin' on?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

They both stared at me in disbelief when I started giggling - the contrast between them was just comical. Alice looked chipper and immaculate, as usual because -God's truth - she must sleep standing up. She never has bed hair. Never. Comparatively, Jasper was a mess. His hair looked like a haystack, and he had a dopey, only-half-there look on his face.

It was late and I was doped up on meds, so I laughed.

- but I shut up quickly at the look Alice was giving me.

"Sorry for barging in like that, Bella," she said calmly, turning to walk out again. "Go back to sleep."

I floundered for a couple of seconds, gaping at her. Was she kidding? Wasn't this the part where she explained _why_ she bulldozed her way into my room in the middle of the night?

Jasper just shrugged and blew me a kiss that Alice really tried not frown at and trudged back to their room.

"Sweet dreams," she called out as she shut the door and I was still staring incredulously after her. No explanation, then, obviously.

I flopped backwards, groaning, but thanks to the gift of chemically regulated rhythms, I was snoring again within seconds.

My dreams were filled with bleeding blue eyes and screaming girls, and black cloaks, and flashing colours that left me feeling nauseous, and I woke up the next morning gasping, flushed and sweating despite the cold wind blowing through my still open window.

Jasper and Alice were both sitting at the kitchen counter, immersed in their morning ritual when I stumbled in – Jasper, scarfing his breakfast of choice at an alarming rate and Alice, watching him with affectionate eyes, untouched cup of coffee in front of her. She used it as a hand-warmer, but she never drank it. A waste of perfectly good caffeine, in my opinion.

"You're late, Bambi," Jasper mumbled through a mouthful of toast, eyeing my pyjamas with disapproval.

"Don't worry," Alice chimed, "I'll give her a lift."

I narrowed my eyes at her, but she just shrugged at me. Her eyes betrayed her nonchalance though, and I spent my morning coffee wondering what sort of hidden agenda she had. She wasn't offering out of the goodness of her heart, I knew that much.

Eventually, I figured it didn't really matter - she was always doing weird shit.

When he was finished with breakfast, after he'd put his plate in the sink, Jasper walked over and set my pills in front of me – another morning ritual – and stood there watching me until I'd swallowed them all. I didn't have the energy or motivation to be huffy about it.

Once he was satisfied that I wasn't going to spit them up, he winked at me and ruffled my hair playfully before bending to kiss Alice on the cheek and strolling serenely out of the kitchen.

I rolled my eyes and finished my coffee, ignoring Alice's watchful, slightly worried stare.

After rushing through my morning shower, and ignoring the clothing Alice had laid out on my bed in favour of yesterdays jeans and a slightly wrinkled t-shirt, I grabbed my bag and was almost out the front door before Alice stopped me with an icy hand on my shoulder.

"I thought we decided I was going to give you a lift?" she said, pouting slightly, eyes still guarded and worried.

"No," I said softly, as patronizingly as I could, "You decided that. Though, I kind of figured it was just for Jasper's benefit…" I leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. "He's not here anymore. You can drop the act."

She jerked backwards, glaring at me, and I couldn't suppress the tiny thrill of fear that shot through me. With her lips curled back from her teeth, her eyes almost black with anger, she looked terrifying.

She smoothed the look away almost immediately though, and smiled sweetly at me. "So, I'm giving you a lift?" she asked.

"I can walk," I said, brow furrowed in confusion. "I always walk."

She grabbed her keys anyway and smiled again. "No, I'll give you a lift. You're late anyway." Without waiting for a reply, she walked out the door. Staring after her in shock, I huffed a bit and decided that I should just follow along like an _obedient_ little puppy-dog. She was right - I _was_ late. And she wouldn't really _hurt_ me...

~*~

Carlisle was still with another patient when I arrived. The secretary smiled at me, nodding me over to one of the plush leather couches – I couldn't help but wonder how much Jasper was paying for these sessions, if the doc could afford such swanky, sinfully comfortable furniture.

The thought of Jasper spending so much money made me seriously uncomfortable, but I learnt early on to just suck it up. It wasn't worth fighting about, and, if I did complain, we _would_ fight. He was adamant about paying for the therapy and for the meds.

I didn't even notice that Alice had followed me inside until I plopped down onto one of the couches, digging around in my bag for my iPod. She sat on the opposite end of the couch, body angled towards me, eyes on the door. I ignored her, and luckily, she seemed to preoccupied to pay any attention to me. I fought hard to bite down the urge to ask her what the hell she was still doing here, if maybe she was baby-sitting? Maybe they thought I wasn't actually going to the sessions?

Carlisle emerged finally, and it never ceased to amaze me how striking he was.

"Isabella," he greeted me, smiling warmly. His eyes flickered briefly to Alice, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw her shake her head almost imperceptibly.

Something flashed in his eyes and he held out his hand to her. "Carlisle," he said, "I assume you must be Alice. Isabella's spoken of you." He smiled again, though there was something forced about it.

I stood around, trying not to scream while they exchanged stilted greetings, managing to _not_ tap my foot in impatience. A trial, to be sure.

That irritation set the tone for the entire session, and I could hear the petulance in my tone whenever I spoke. I almost felt bad. Carlisle made me feel very at ease, so usually I was very open. Today, after his strange little display with Alice, I was too irritated to be anything besides short, snippy and unhelpful.

He gave up after only 50 minutes, and I practically flung myself out of the room, eager to get home and... be somewhere else. I was even looking forward to the walk.

Fate was obviously conspiring against me though, because Alice was still there, perched neatly on one of the couches, glaring at...

My boy... My beautiful, growling boy - sinfully sprawled and smirking, on one of the black couches.

Now that he'd taken out the contacts, his eyes were a strange, almost dirty green colour that made me strangely uncomfortable.

He stiffened as soon as we entered the room, and the smirk disappeared as his dirty eyes - the colour of dying, bloodstained grass - flickered between Carlisle and me. His brow furrowed and his fists were clenched where they rested on the top of the couch.

"Edward," Carlisle said, breaking the strange tension, "it's.. good to see you."

* * *

******SweetDulci** is my Alpha. She makes sure this shit is readable.


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